


Give Me Love

by madelinewrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Father’s Day blues, I just really love comfort fics okay, angst and then fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-06
Updated: 2017-07-06
Packaged: 2018-11-28 17:25:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11422665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madelinewrites/pseuds/madelinewrites
Summary: You’ve always been head over heels for Dean, but acting upon it always seemed fruitless That is, until Father’s Day comes around and you realize Dean still does need love, more than you may know.





	Give Me Love

**Author's Note:**

> Pairing: Dean x Reader
> 
> Prompt: “You’re supposed to talk me out of this” for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing ‘s Hiatus Challenge Week 4. Also for @thevioletthourr ‘s Milestone Challenge with the prompt of Give Me Love by Ed Sheeran.
> 
> Summary: You’ve always been head over heels for Dean, but acting upon it always seemed fruitless That is, until Father’s Day comes around and you realize Dean still does need love, more than you may know.
> 
> Word Count: 2259
> 
> Warnings: angst and then fluff, I just really love comfort fics okay, Father’s Day blues
> 
> A/N: Here’s to anyone without a Dad today; you’re still loved no matter what. I hope everyone enjoys this fic, I really do. As always, FEEDBACK IS ADORED! EVEN JUST A LIKE HELPS!

**“Give me love like never before, /‘Cause lately I’ve been craving more, /And it’s been a while but I still feel the same, /Maybe I should let you go, /You know I’ll fight my corner, /And that tonight I’ll call ya, /After my blood is drowning in alcohol, /No, I just wanna hold ya.”**

**_Give Me Love- Ed Sheeran_ **

           You made your final round throughout the bunker, scanning all the rooms, relocking the doors and windows, checking to make sure all the protective symbols were intact. Sam and Dean assured you every night that they would know if something was wrong, but you’d seen their plans fall through too many times and loved them too much to risk it.

             Finally, confident in your safety (at least, as safe as one  _could_  be when around the Winchesters), you entered into the library, the long wooden table not as lonely as you had expected. Dean sat, empty beer in hand, another empty bottle set sideways on the table. You hovered next to the doorframe for a moment, Dean not yet noticing you. He seemed…sad. It wasn’t a word you normally associated with Dean’s appearance; there was no question in your mind at his inner turmoil, but he hardly ever let that rough exterior slip, even when alone. Sad or not, he looked beautiful. You had always adored the older Winchester, even before you started hunting with them. You used to know them in passing, once in a blue moon you’d catch each other on the same case or passing through the same town, but that was rare. Still, he seemed to steal your heart the moment he introduced himself. But you had seen Dean around women he liked; he was by no means shy. To your immediate disappointment, he didn’t flirt with you when he met you, and he hadn’t since that day. No matter your feelings for him, it wasn’t fair to throw yourself at him when he didn’t want you, not for you or him.

            Still, you hesitated. It wasn’t often that you and Dean had a chance to be alone together and even when you weren’t alone, he still made you nervous as hell. He was snarky and sarcastic and at times just plain cold, but those traits seemed prohibited when it came to you. To you he was gentle; that was the only word you could think of. His voice was always so soft when addressing you and anytime that he touched you, which sadly wasn’t often, he treated you like a fragile artifact. You wondered if that meant something, but you doubted it was anything good. Perhaps he thought down on you, or that you were too weak to handle the “real” Dean, if that’s what you could even call how he behaved normally. You couldn’t tell and that was precisely the problem; he was too much of a loose cannon with possession of too much of your heart.

            You amped yourself up enough to walk in; you were a lot braver than you looked, whether he knew it or not. Wordlessly, you grabbed the bottles, including the one in his hand. He looked up to you, startled, but you just continued into the kitchen, tossing the bottles into the trash with a loud  _clink_. You grabbed two more beers, returning to your unrequited love and setting one before him. He smirked at you, opening it on the edge of the table as you took a seat across from him.

             “ **You’re supposed to talk me out of this** ,” he teased half-heartedly. “Not join in on my vices” 

           “Well,” you murmured, your voice cracking from not talking for so long. There had been a drought in cases, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it had all of you on edge. You just stayed in your room, rummaging through every news site on the internet looking for anything unusual.  “I’m not much of a saint either, you know.”

            He rolled his eyes. “Please.”

            You glared at him, but said nothing, continuing to nurse your beer thoughtfully. The room was filled with a comfortable silence as you mulled over him. He did the same to you, causing a slight blush to form over you, but you held the eye contact for as long as you could manage. He was so  _beautiful_  and it had been quite some time since you’d found anyone attractive, let alone another hunter. He was stunning, truly; the stupidly green eyes, the ridiculously tempting lips, the muscles of his arms that flexed just right in his current t-shirt. He was annoyingly, distractingly, and undoubtedly attractive, and yet you just couldn’t have him. It was all very dramatic, but what wasn’t in your lives?

            “So, what’s going on with you?” you finally asked, your heart racing as you rested your elbows on the table similarly to him, your faces the closest they’d ever been.  _Just friends, Y/n, you’re just friends._  He feigned confusion.

            “What do you mean?”

            “I have eyes, Dean,” you quipped, raising an eyebrow. “Besides, I know you better than you probably know yourself at this point.  _Something’s_  up.” He shrugged, swallowing. You sighed, standing up with plans to sit beside him. He grabbed at your wrist, his eyes wide as they looked up to you pleadingly.

             “Don’t go, Y/n, please,” he whispered, his voice scratchy. You looked at his hand around your wrist; even though it didn’t hurt in the slightest, it was still the roughest and most forward he’d ever been with you. He quickly retracted his hand, looking down at the table. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s up with me.”       

                 You nodded, slowly making your way beside him. You scooched your chair so your arms were touching as you sat, the contact warm and strangely comforting. You took a sip of your beer and he did the same, though his was probably a bit more than a sip. You crinkled your eyebrows, thinking deeply as you stared at your bottle. Dean being visibly upset was practically his natural state, but not in this way, never upset to the degree of  _asking_ for someone, especially you. You wondered if he’d had more beer than what the number of bottles suggested. Suddenly, it hit you. You knew exactly what was wrong; nothing had happened that wasn’t normal, in fact it was an annual thing.

            “It’s because of Father’s Day, isn’t it?” you murmured, turning your head to look at his profile. His eyes remained glued to his bottle as he shrugged. You nodded, taking that as a yes. Well, what do you even say to that? If anyone in the world had reason to be sad on Father’s Day, Dean Winchester was definitely one of them. It was always hard to talk about John with Dean; from everything you’d been told about him, you weren’t too fond. Yet Dean still held John on this pedestal, years after his demise. You sighed, clearing your throat as you did your best to comfort him, treading lightly as possible.

            “You know, Father’s Day is probably one of the shittiest ‘holidays’ ever made,” you stated in monotone. He laughed at this, the sides of his eyes crinkling in that way you loved. With this as a confidence boost, you continued. “I’m serious! It’s a slap to anyone without a dad, or at least a good one, and just strange to anyone with one. Shouldn’t everyday be a day to love and appreciate the family you got? It’s like Valentine’s Day, useless and more condescending than enjoyable.” He raised his bottle, and you met him for cheers.

         “Yeah,” he nodded, swallowing some more of his drink. “Still doesn’t change what it reminds me of.” 

         You gave him a soft smile, so tempted to rub his back or scratch his head or anything just to touch and comfort him. But you were just friends.  _Just friends, Y/n._

         “Do you have any good memories from Father’s Days?” you pressed, hoping that maybe some happy memories would come up.

       “Nah,” he shook his head. “Dad was always gone on some hunt. And Bobby, well he never felt right for claiming the day as his own, even though he was probably a better dad than mine ever could be.”

       Your eyes widened at the words. You had never heard Dean say anything even  _slightly_ slanderous against his father. You were glad to have him more open than usual, you wanted nothing more than for him to actually talk to you. Not Dean’s façade, but the real Dean and you, alone, having a real conversation.

        “Well, tell me about Bobby then?” He smiled slightly at the prompt, his lips curling as he laughed to himself.

       “Oh, how to describe Bobby. He was… gruff. He lived in a salvage yard and he was our father, mother and researcher all combined into one for most of our lives. He was a good man, Y/n, one of the best I’ve ever met. He didn’t deserve to die. And neither did my dad, even with his faults. They both just did the best that they could; that’s more than I can say for myself sometimes.”

       You shook your head, your lips pursing slightly.

       “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Dean,” you grumbled, your eyes tearing up with passion. “You’ve done things for others that you couldn’t pay people to do.  _You’re_  a good man, Dean, and a good hunter, and a damn good friend to have by your side. If he had any sense at all, your dad would be the proudest man on Earth.”

      You could’ve kept going, but stopped once you looked to Dean. Tears streamed continually down his face, his lips quivering at your words. You set your bottle down, grabbing his from his hand and setting it aside as well. He looked at you strangely. 

       “C’mere,” you demanded, wrapping your arms around his neck. He wavered for a moment, before his arms came to wrap around your waist. “I love you.”

       You gasped at your own words, quickly pulling back from the hug and beginning to mutter your apologies. Dean’s arms remained your waist though, keeping you as close as possible in your separate chairs. You quieted when you saw his face, a whole mixed bag of emotions. He wasn’t drunk after all; he was heartbroken. Yet, even amongst his grief, his eyes were wide and tender as they traveled over your features, landing on your lips. For a moment, his eyes flitted from your lips to your eyes, silently asking for permission. You nodded, leaning closer to his face. Taking a deep breath, he placed his lips on yours, both your eyes fluttering shut as you let the kiss deepen. His hands rubbed up and down your back, one reaching up to tangle into your hair. You kissed him passionately, like you had wanted to for so long. Your mind couldn’t even process your shock in that moment; all that mattered was that world-altering kiss. Your hands were wild as they explored everywhere they could on him: his hair, his jaw, his shoulders, his arms. This was what you had wanted for so very long, and he felt even better than you had imagined. 

       Finally, you both had to gasp for air, remaining in each other’s arms even then, your faces inches apart as you breathed the same air. He laughed slightly, the tears gone from his face.

      “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he said, the joy evident in his tone. You blushed.

      “ _Really?_ ” you smiled shyly. He nodded, his expression becoming serious. 

     “Did you mean it, what you said?” Dean whispered, his eyes once more staring at your lips. 

     You were afraid of your voice’s strength, so you just nodded, fear forming in your stomach at what his reaction may be. He sighed in relief.

    “And you have no clue how long I’ve wanted to hear that from you.” 

   Your heart raced at the sentiment, tears popping into your eyes.

    “I can’t express how long I’ve felt it,” you admitted, the vulnerability not nearly as painful as you had expected. He smiled, stroking your cheek tenderly. 

     “You know, I’ve never done this with a girl before,” he muttered. 

     “What?” you asked. He took a deep breath, looking you right in the eyes.

       “I love you too, Y/n.” You let your muscles entirely untense, throwing your arms around his neck once more. In the least graceful way possible, Dean managed to scooch you over to his chair, placing you so you were straddling him as best you could in the tight space. You smiled softly, his hands always stroking some part of you, whether it be your cheek or hair or waist, he couldn’t not feel you.

      “I’m exhausted,” he admitted, looking to the hallway where your bedrooms lied. He looked back to you hopefully. “Stay with me? Not in a weird way, just a-“

    You kissed him midsentence, sighing in content. You pulled back after a moment, curling your lips into a lazy smile.

     “Always, Dean.  _I’m_  not going anywhere.”  He nodded thankfully, picking you up and carrying you into his room. He laid beside you in his bed, tentatively wrapping his arms around you. You snuggled in closer to him, and he tightened his grip on you. Both you and Dean quickly fell asleep, feeling the safest and most loved you had in ages. Neither of your lives were perfect, but you had each other, and somehow that made up for the rest.

**Author's Note:**

> Also found at: http://deansleather.tumblr.com/post/161989199658/give-me-love


End file.
